


Gift Giving as a Crucial Act of Foreplay (or, A Rock with a Hole in It)

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: But only a tiny bit, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gift Giving, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, This Smut is In-Tents, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, vague D/s tones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29907981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Varric and Merrill go to Sundermount on an errand.
Relationships: Merrill/Varric Tethras
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Gift Giving as a Crucial Act of Foreplay (or, A Rock with a Hole in It)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/gifts).



Varric's not a stupid man; he knows Merrill doesn't really need someone looking out for her. She's naive, sure, but she can handle herself in a fight too. He's seen it first hand.

He gives her the twine as a joke that doesn't land. She's grateful, thanks him profusely, and tells him how useful it'll be. 

"Well… you're welcome, Daisy." He'd been hoping for a groan and a chuckle, but he finds he prefers this by a long shot.

Merrill asks him something about the fresco on the building nearby, but he doesn't know. Varric spends three days writing letters to find the right book on Kirkwall's architecture. He gives it to her and her eyes light up. 

"You found this for me?" she asks.

"Of course. Now you can answer all the questions you never knew you had."

Merrill hugs him, pressing the book between them. "Thank you," she says, sounding teary. 

Varric feels a tightness in his chest, not unpleasant, just a swell of emotion. A fierce protectiveness, a blossoming affection, and a wild appreciation of something, someone, so _good._

He considers his next gift very carefully. Books and twine are easy, but he needs something really meaningful. He does not consider not giving her another gift; the thought never once crosses his mind. 

Varric doesn't want to rush it, content to ponder until the perfect idea comes to him. In the time he spends pondering, Merrill beats him to the punch.

They're out between Sundermount and Kirkwall, some errand or another for Hawke, when she turns to him and tells him she got him a present.

"It's a rock," he says.

"I know!" She sounds thrilled.

Varric looks at the little rock, barely more than a pebble, in his palm. He feels a surge of affection for her. "Thanks, Merrill."

"I mean, it's not just a rock, it's special."

"Oh, okay, because I thought --"

"You must have thought I was mad! No, it's not just a rock, it's a rock with a hole through it."

Varric's amused, but yes, thinks she might be a little mad. "Right, of course."

"They're good luck," she explains, probably catching the look on his face. "Sorry, I thought… maybe it's just an elven story? A rock with a hole in it, they're rare and they're good luck if you wear them. I found this one in the alienage, just outside my door."

A good luck charm. That makes considerably more sense than a pebble. Varric pops the rock into his pocket for safekeeping until he can get something to thread it onto. 

"I like it. Thank you," he says and despite the inherent oddness, he finds he means it.

They camp that night and in the meager space afforded by the tent, Varric finds it difficult to sleep. Merrill is very close and the scent of her soap is giving him a light, heady feeling. The warmth of her is ever-present at his side, and his mind slinks away to think inappropriate things, like rolling over and kissing her breathless, like taking her hand and running away together, away from Kirkwall's bullshit and Hawke's (albeit usually entertaining) bullshit. Varric gives his head a shake, literally, and refocuses on the task at hand -- going to sleep so he has enough sense in the morning to not act on his bad impulses.

Merrill makes a noise in her sleep, a whimper, that draws all of Varric's attention. He worries she's having a bad dream, so he draws a bit closer, ready to wake her if necessary. Instead, she clings to him the moment he moves, wrapping one arm around his chest and burying her face into his neck with another little whimper.

"Oh," he whispers to himself. "Shit."

He's not sure when he falls asleep, remembers lying awake for a long time with Merrill's breath ghosting over his skin. His skin prickles with it, like static in the air. At one point, just as he finally starts drifting, one of her hands finds his and she twists their fingers together. That wakes him up again and kind of knocks the wind out of him. But he sleeps at some point, because he wakes up with brightness in the tent and his dick achingly hard in his breeches.

"Ah, shit," he mumbles. Varric moves to pull away, but Merrill is still asleep and still firmly wrapped around him. If he moves too quickly, he's definitely going to wake her up, then he'll have to explain himself. And that doesn't seem like a fun thing to have to do this early in the morning, or y'know, ever.

Varric tries to pull himself away, but the moment he moves back, she follows. They're facing each other on their sides with about an inch, maybe less, of space between them.

Physically removing himself seems like a no-go, so he starts willing all interested parties to go back to sleep by thinking about everything in life that he hates. He goes alphabetically and by the time he gets to the Gs, he's feeling better.

And then Merrill moves in her sleep again, bringing her leg up, sliding her thigh between his and coming to rest right against his length. She's so warm up against him, and there's something about knowing a woman is comfortable that gets him going to begin with… Varric gets hard almost instantly.

"Varric?" she says, barely above a mumble. Because of course she's awake now.

"Hi Daisy," he says, forcing levity.

"Oh," Merrill says, shifting against him and clearly noticing… all that there was to notice. Varric's hand tightens involuntarily on the back of her chemise.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he mutters. He tries to move away and she stills him with an open hand on his shoulder. Merrill doesn't say anything but she moves against him again, rolling her hips to bring them together.

"Merrill," he says warningly. It would have been more powerful if his breath didn't catch on the second syllable.

It's her turn to apologize. "I'm sorry, Varric, I only…" She presses her thigh up again and his hips move forward on their own, as embarrassing as it is, it feels like nothing he's felt before. Affection, lust, and the urge to protect her swirl confusingly in his mind.

"Only what?" he manages.

"I thought, maybe… It was intentional?"

Varric lets out a long, controlled breath. "No, Daisy, it was an accident."

He's higher up on the bedroll than she is and she has to look up at him. Her lashes flutter and her wide green eyes hold a question, a hope, a promise. "Could we pretend?" Merrill asks. 

That topples the walls he's built inside himself just enough. Varric leans in and kisses her, sweet and simple, just to test the waters. Merrill bunches her hand in the front of his shirt, and gasps against his mouth.

He chuckles. "Okay?" he asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it.

"Oh, yes," Merrill says, moving herself forward as if there wasn't barely an inch between them already. "Were you worried?" she asks with a sly smile.

"Only worry right now is that I won't be able to stop now that I've started."

She grins and starts the kissing this time, pressing their mouths together, ramping up the tension by several notches when she gets her hand between their bodies and palms at the front of his breeches.

Varric breaks away from kissing her to grip her by the hips and shimmy her over. She gets the idea and straddles his hips, trapping his cock against the hottest part of her.

"Oh, I --"

"No?" he asks, running gentle fingers up her sides under her loose shirt, trying his best to only tickle a little because he knows she'll dissolve into a fit of giggles otherwise.

"It's good," she says as she rolls her hips and draws gasps from both of them. She does it again, and a third time, and Varric stills her with firm hands on her hips.

"Daisy," he says, hearing how shaky he sounds. "Not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that."

Merrill wraps her slender fingers tightly around his wrists, trapping his hands against her and rolls her hips very deliberately, grinding down against his cock. "Good," she says.

And what's a man supposed to do in the face of such fierce determination? Stand up and fight? Or flee? Not Varric. He gives up instead, lets her have her way, riding his clothed cock until he comes in his breeches, gasping her name and clutching at her hips.

She seems so proud, perched atop him and looking down, calm, beatific.

Varric takes a second, or a few, to compose himself. "Off," he says, tapping her hip.

Her pride turns to a pout instantly. "Off," he says again, a bit more force. "I want you on your back for this."

That earns him a devilish little smile as she moves off of him. She pauses only for a second, long enough to shimmy out of her shirt.

"These too," Varric says, plucking at her loose pants.

"You're dressed," she points out even as she strips them off in the tiny space the tent affords.

"And a bit sticky, thanks for asking."

"Varric --"

"Hush, Daisy."

Her eyes go wide and she bites her lip.

"Is that it?" he asks, grinning. "Being told what to do?"

Despite now being nude in front of him and everything they've just done, she blushes, averts her eyes.

"Oh. Oh, Daisy. This I can handle like a fuckin' _door_. On your back. Now."

She scrambles to comply immediately and Varric's cock twitches with interest. When she's settled, he parts her thighs and it's the most incredible thing, the crowning achievement, the highest pinnacle of perfection he's ever reached. He knows he's staring, taking in every spectacular curve, plane, valley, and peak, and hell, maybe he's even drooling a bit.

Merrill giggles, because he's that obvious.

Varric snaps out of it and drags one fingers up her folds, pressing with a gentle touch next to her clit. She moves up against his hand and her eyes widen when he pulls his hand back.

"Varric?"

"You're the one who rushes, not me. I'm taking my time with you."

He crosses his legs in front of him and settles in for a long time. Ghosting his fingers over her again brings a shudder and her trying to lift her hips again.

"No, no," Varric says. "I want you to stay still. Nice and still for me, can you do that, darlin'?"

Merrill takes a shaky breath.

"How about, if you stay real still until I tell you, you'll get a reward?"

"And if I don't?"

"Well, what's the opposite of a reward?"

Her exhale is explosive.

"What do you say?"

"Okay, Varric," she says, wriggling her hips to get comfy. It's a tantalizing movement, one he follows attentively.

"Still as a statue," he reminds her. "But you can make noise, if you want. If you really feel you need to." He punctuates the last few words with a light flick of his thumb over her clit.

She whimpers, exactly what he wants to hear. When he knows he's got her full attention and she's not going to wiggle too much, he ignores the reddening bundle of nerves starting to peek out from its hood and focuses on the rest of the pretty picture in front of him. He runs his hands up her sides, down her thighs, over her arms, pulls her hands to his mouth and kisses her fingers, savouring the feel of her skin and taking his time like he promised. And just generally being a little shit.

Varric wants to fuck her. By the look in her eyes and the way she keeps hisses his name, she wants him too, but he needs to buy some time. After all, he's not as young as he once was. Plus, unless she's got an extensive history of dwarven lovers he's never heard about, she's not going to be ready to take everything he's working with. Not a brag, just a dwarven fact.

He shucks off his shirt and unlaces his breeches. It's getting hot in the tent, hot enough that Merrill's shining with a sheen of sweat. He can smell the scent of her arousal glistening on her thighs and the wiry curls around her cunt and he realizes that his mouth is watering for her.

"I want to fuck you, Daisy," he says. If she likes being talked to, he feels like he's the best man for the job, honestly. "If you want it --"

"I want it," she says, nodding fervently. "Please. Now."

"Don't interrupt," he says. He aims a light slap to the inside of her thigh and she shudders and makes a noise, but to her credit, doesn't move.

"Good girl," he says and Merrill's eyes fly open and she moans, loud, open, wanting.

"By the Stone," he mutters. "You're gonna kill me."

He can't waste any additional time coming up with more reasons to fall for her. Varric would rather see her come on his fingers once or twice. He tells her so.

It's enough to break her resolve. She squirms, moving down the bedroll until her ass bumps into his knees, cunt spread almost in his lap.

He slaps again, the other thigh this time. "I thought I said stay still?"

"Sorry," she says.

"You don't sound very sorry."

Merrill props herself up on her elbows and stares at him, big, imploring eyes he could get lost in. "I am, I'm sorry."

"Okay. I believe you. You still don't get your reward though."

She sighs, one little sound that worms it's way into his brain and latches onto a thought -- mostly the thought 'that's what she's going to sound like when you're balls deep inside her and she's so fucked out she can't form words.'

"And what's the opposite of a reward, Daisy?"

She meets his eyes, bites her lip. Her eyes say she knows what he's angling at, but the stubborn tilt of her jaw says she's at war with herself about admitting it.

"Say it."

"A punishment."

"That's right. Now, up on my lap, show me how wide you can spread your pretty legs."

She gets her ass in his lap, which brings her cunt dangerously close to rubbing right up against his body, but it also brings her breasts into grabbing range. Varric plucks at one of her nipples and she goes a little shrill.

"Sensitive?"

" _Yes_."

"Good to know."

Varric gets one finger inside her with no resistance. Merrill's given up on stillness, knowing punishment is coming her way regardless, and she rolls her hips the moment she's got something inside her. She's so worked up and wet that his second finger slides in easily.

"Varric," she says, panting his name. His dick has been half-hard since she wiggled onto his lap, but now it's at full mast.

"Daisy?"

"More. Please."

"You can't come yet," he chuckles. "That's the punishment."

Merrill groans in frustration and fucks harder against his fingers. He obliges her (because when has he not?) and eases his third fingers into her tight cunt. She groans and whimpers and moans and he can feel her walls pulsing around his fingers, but she stretches to accommodate him. His cock jerks on its own and he can feel a trickle of precome leaking down.

He fucks her like that, three wide fingers, occasionally rubbing at her clit with his free hand, just for a second or two before backing off again. Soon, he thinks he might even be able to squeeze a fourth finger in, but she's too close to coming. He withdraws his fingers completely and hears her panting break off into a sad, whimpering version of his name. Every time she says it, it drives his arousal a little further.

"I mean it, Daisy. You can come on my cock. _After_ I come. Not yet."

Varric scooches her off him and rises up to his knees. Merrill spreads her legs and bends her knees and fuck, if she isn't the prettiest sight, sweaty, hair a mess, trembling limbs, cunt stretched open, and wet, and _for him._

He pushes his breeches down, out of the way, even if they trap his knees. He doesn't need a ton of range for what he's about to do.

Varric reaches his hand out but Merrill beats him to it, spreading her lips open with two fingers and meeting his eyes with a shy smile. Shy. At this point. He can't handle it.

"I'm gonna die," he says with a pleased chuckle. "You're too much, Daisy, it's going to kill me."

When he finally slides in, bit by bit because even as turned on and wet as she is, he's got a thick enough cock, he's pretty sure his heart stops beating. There's a brief pause and then Merrill tightens around him and arches up, coming with a strangled cry. He feels a little gush of wetness coating his cock, letting him slide the last half inch in until he's fully inside her. That brings another surprise moan from her as she reaches for him. Varric takes her hand, leaning in close to kiss her stomach, her breast, not quite long enough in the torso to reach her mouth.

"You know, that was so flattering, I'm not even mad," he says when she's relaxed a bit and settled back down.

"Keep going?" she asks.

Varric laughs again and twists their fingers together. "I wasn't going to stop," he promises. "Not if you can still string words together."

He obviously underestimated how much movement is going to be involved. He slides out of her, appreciating her grumble, and tosses his pants away.

He fucks her gently as she moans and murmurs, things in Elven, things about how good it feels, how much she wants it. Varric fucks into her a little faster, once she's good and opened up around his thick cock. The murmurs start to blur into one long mantra of gibberish, punctuated with soft moans, like she's trying to hold herself back.

Lifting her hips lets him get just that little bit deeper and Merrill can't hold herself back anymore. She gets loud. Real loud. Varric bites his lip and thinks about demon goo, and the Deep Roads, and licking the soles of Grand Cleric Elthina's dirty shoes, all to keep from coming again and ending the whole event now.

"Varric, Varric please, I need to -- I want --"

"Tell me," he encourages her, like a man opening taunting fate.

"I'm going to --"

"Okay, show me again. You're such a good girl." He reaches out and pinches one of her nipples, just for good measure.

Whether she comes because of what he's saying, what he's doing with his hands or because he's still thrusting into her like his life depends on it, or a mixture of all three, doesn't matter. Merrill comes, mouth open in a perfect 'o' but soundless. She claws at his shoulders and tries to pull him down, but he's a lot more sturdy than all that and ends up pulling herself upright, back into his lap. His legs get bent uncomfortably to the sides of his knees, but Merrill's almost sobbing into his shoulder and he's still fully sheathed in her cunt. It's kind of amazing.

He thrusts up a few times, but there's nothing he can think of that's going to stop his climax now. He comes for an embarrassingly long time, feels it pumping into the little trembling elf clinging to his neck and pressing open mouthed kisses anywhere she can.

He's drained, utterly, and spent, exhausted, sated, and amenable enough to take any other adjective thrown his way in this moment.

"Oh," Merrill says, when he pulls out of her. There's a small gush of his seed and it trickles out over her fingers when she reaches down.

He rummages for a cloth, something they can clean up with, and comes up with an old shirt from his pack. Cleaning becomes its own affair. He wipes her up carefully, but can't resist a little tickle to her clit. She gasps and launches herself at him, tweaking one of his nipples and making him gasp.

They tumble, tickle, poke, and prod and laugh until Varric moves to roll over and something grinds uncomfortably unto his ribs. He pulls his pants out from under him. Pants aren't known for being so hard and sharp. That's when he remembers the rock. He pulls it out and holds it up.

"Aww, good luck rock. You really like it?" Merrill says, pulling her shirt back down over her chest.

"I do, Daisy. It's brought me all manner of good luck so far."

"Well I only gave it to you yesterday, and it's only meant to bring good luck if you wear it, so I --"

He shushes her with a slow kiss.

"Oh. _Oh._ You really think that was all luck?"

He nods, not following. "Sure."

"Hawke wanted to come out here himself. I had to beg," Merrill says, a sly little smile picking up the corners of her mouth.

" _Daisy!_ " Scandal. Pure scandal.

Merrill laughs and kisses him on the cheek. "Are you mad?"

"No. But I am very turned on again all of the sudden. I didn't know you did plots and plans."

"I'm learning," she says with a wink that leaves everything up to his imagination. She turns away and busies herself dressing.

 _Still,_ he thinks, stuffing the rock back in his pocket. _It still feels lucky..._


End file.
